Le Scandale
by KareninaCrawley
Summary: Victoria is in mourning not for the man she married, but for the life she lost in marrying him. For months, everything appeared to be in darkness, but following a political blunder on the part of Sir Robert Peel, Victoria's life begins anew.
1. Chapter 1

Le Scandale

Victoria awoke in darkness and hugged Albert's pillow close to her, breathing in the familiar smell of his cologne and biting back the tears which were now her constant companion. Her only comfort would fade soon and then she would have no reminders, Lehzen had already attempted to wash the bedclothes on numerous occasions.

She barely slept anymore, and when she did drift off into a restless slumber, the echo of a gunshot pierced her ears and she would wake, gasping for breath and calling out to anyone who would listen. Six months of her widowhood had passed and she was not yet finished grieving, her mother did not feel as though she had yet truly begun.

The guilt was the worst part of it all. The horrendous notion that it should have been her, and not the husband with whom she had yet to share an anniversary, tore her apart. But Victoria felt far more criminal for her desire to have died on that day, in Albert's place, just so she would not have to suffer another day of her marriage, another day of being treated as a child. During those few months she had retreated into herself, brow beaten and reduced to an infant in her own mind. And so she felt guilt upon the death of the man with whom she was supposedly in love, with whom she was supposed to sire a dozen heirs not only for her own throne, but for the thrones of Europe, but following his funeral, she felt such a profound sense of relief that it was only then that she began to weep.

Victoria knew now that her infatuation was not love, not in the purest sense of the word, in which one would die for their beloved and not hope to die in their place just to be spared the indignity of the situation. No, Victoria did not love Albert, and her heart was not given without reservation. It belonged to another and he had taken possession of it many years ago.

Calling to Dash to cuddle close to her, Victoria sighed dejectedly at the thought of the day ahead, of everyone's stares, so full of pity for the black clad widow-child, of the abrupt cessation of chatter upon her entrance into a room, and of having to appear as though she was truly in mourning.

Leaning her head back against the plush headboard, Victoria started as Lehzen called from behind the door.

Calling out to her former governess, she allowed her entry and grew perplexed at the curious expression of disapproval on the Baroness' face.

"Majesty, there has been a most peculiar incident in the House overnight. The Whigs have overthrown the Tories."

"How could this be? Peel did not mention any difficulty in passing his bills." Victoria feigned indignation and hoped that Lehzen could not hear her heart beating under her shift.

Handing her former charge an envelope, Lehzen bowed her head and left the room, muttering about "the impudence of that man," in German.

Victoria took that to mean one thing.

Lord Melbourne would be returning to the Palace.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

Melbourne had not slept, he had not eaten, he dressed quickly and set off for the Palace once he received the Queen's summons. He barely had time to process his own thoughts on the debacle of the previous night's proceedings. Such a mess for the Tories, and the Whigs for once came out on top! Melbourne chuckled to himself and felt a profound sense of relief that at the very least, he would not go down in history as the worst Prime Minister the country ever had. No, that was eternally reserved for Sir Robert Peel.

It did not take long for word to spread around London that Melbourne was Prime Minister once more, he saw the curious stares of the public who trod their well-worn paths to work, as he cantered towards the Palace. He wondered what they thought of his return, and whether they fully comprehended the magnitude of the situation in which he found himself once more.

The Queen had been widowed for less than a year, the political climate was wrought with uncertainties, and the former Prime Minister had been discovered to be conspiring with the second in line to the British throne, to assassinate the Queen.

Lord Melbourne sighed deeply and projected his usual air of nonchalance as he cantered past the usual members of the Ton out in their carriages in the Park. He had to protect her, and he would surrender his life to do so. That much he knew as Buckingham Palace appeared in the distance and he recalled an intoxicatingly excited young girl of only eighteen sitting alongside him and marvelling at the number of windows her future home possessed.

Gripping the reigns tighter, he hoped, above all else that she was not so inexorably altered from that young girl Queen who haunted his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Victoria paced the room, smoothing her skirts, sitting on a small armchair, only to jump up and begin pacing again. Her hands shook and she balled her small fists in order to combat the undesired sign of her nerves. She settled upon rearranging the papers on her desk, and she was midway through her completed box of the day, when the door clicked open and the footman announced "the Prime Minister."

Turning slowly, her black crinoline bustling in the slight breeze emanating from the open window, she saw him, and she smiled for the first time in months.

He awaited her hand, and she noted that it was mercifully still. She was always calm in his presence.

"Lord Melbourne."

Swallowing the gasp which threatened to escape her mouth as he kissed her knuckles, Victoria noticed his unusually dishevelled appearance, and decided to torment him.

"Am I to excuse your disarray, Lord M?" she grinned up at him, and his felt the familiar flutter which always accompanied her use of that beloved nickname.

"I was not expecting to visit you, Ma'am."

His sentence led her to ask him, as was expected of her, to form a government which would serve at her discretion. Naturally, he accepted and settled into a chair at her invitation.

Following the arrival of their tea, he decided that it was the most opportune time in which to inform her of the plot against her life, and her throne.

"How could this be?" she stared at him, with tears in her eyes, looking so wholly bereft that he longed to comfort her, to take her in his arms and never set her free.

"I would not worry Ma'am. Everyone involved has either been taken into custody or are no longer among the living. I know that it must be incredibly difficult for y-"

At that point, she cut him off, eyes ablaze and standing from her chair.

"Albert was involved?"

At the realisation that he had said exactly what he had not meant to, he attempted to go back on his word.

"I did not say that."

"No, but you implied it, Lord Melbourne, and often an implication can be more hurtful than an accusation!"

And so he told her all that he knew. That her husband had plotted against her, conspired with her Uncle Cumberland and Peel, to assassinate her and take the crown for themselves with Sir Robert the eternal Prime Minister. How that would have transpired was unknown to Melbourne. The sheer absurdity of it all baffled him. They had hired a gunman, who, unbeknownst to them, was a loyal supporter of the Queen. It had been their express wish that he would fire at her, killing her swiftly and allowing Albert to rule as regent and then, after he had amassed his fortune pass the crown to Cumberland. They had not accounted for the assassin, or his expert shot. He got Albert in one swift blow, the bullet striking his skull and leaving the Queen with no injury but a broken heart, which now converted to rage.

"I want you to know, Ma'am, that you are no longer in any danger. Not now that I am here to protect you. If only I had prevented all of this." His voice threatened to break as he stared into her expressionless face.

She began to toy with her hands, a familiar by-product of anxiety which had been ever present during the early days of her reign. He noticed, however, that she was not wringing them, as she once had. No, Victoria was attempting to remove her wedding band and in her fury, threatened to pull the digit from its socket. Laying a gentle hand upon hers, he removed it for, laying it in the palm of her right hand. He did not have to wonder at her intentions towards the jewellery, for she pulled her arm back and with considerable strength for a woman of her stature, threw it into the fire.

The embers enveloped it and she gazed transfixed at it melted before her very eyes.

"Nice shot, Ma'am." He laughed, giving her a wry smile, which she returned once he asked: "Too soon?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Melbourne knew anger when he saw it, so familiar a companion as it was to him. He recognised the aggressive agitation in Victoria and longed to rid her of it. It was the next morning and he had arrived for his private audience. As he knelt to kiss her hand, she turned away from him and emitted a loud, heaving sigh. She had the unmistakable air of a woman who needed to be on a horse. So that is what they did. Victoria changed into her deep green riding habit that so became her and raced ahead of him, galloping further and further away from the Palace, from the deceit, from the horrid charade of it all.

They emerged in a small enclave of forest and halted their horses, Victoria, flushed and preoccupied.

"Lord M," she spoke so softly that had he not so studied her voice, he would not have heard her. "What is wrong with me?" Looking out from under her brows, from those ever expressive eyes that eternally sought his own, she attempted to conceal the hurt that she feared would be eternally etched upon her face.

Melbourne shook his handsome head and told her gently: "Ma'am, it was no reflection on you. No reflection whatsoever. The Prince, and Peel, saw only your position. People such as that never become invested in those they intend to harm."

"I fear nobody will want to be with me. All my life," she was biting back the tears now, balling her fist around the leather reins of her horse. "All my life, I have been a pawn, nobody has ever truly cared."

"You are mistaken, Ma'am."

Closing her eyes against the burning tears, Victoria jumped from Majesty, and marched away, her riding habit rustling the fallen leaves with Melbourne following close behind, leaving the horses to nibble on the dewy grass.

"I cannot forget, Lord M. I cannot! How dare you taunt me."

He had never seen her cry bitter tears, her face red and blotchy, her unsteady hand pulling at the fastening of her cloak, struggling as she seemed for breath.

"That was not my intention, believe me. You are hurt, Ma'am."

"I am quite well."

"Perhaps physically, but ones pride can bruise as easily as flesh." He spoke from his own experience, in a reasoned tone, although he felt as though he ought to meet her impassioned roars.

"My pride? Lord Melbourne, you forget yourself!"

Frustrated now, he exclaimed: "Do you think I wanted to turn you away?"

"I think you chose duty over happiness, as we are all forced to! What good is duty, Lord M? All it does is tie you to a cold fish who takes your role for himself and demands three children in two years!" She looked accusingly up at him and spoke the words that he himself knew to be true.

"You could have saved me from it all, Lord M." Sobbing, she walked towards him as he outstretched his arms, wetting his waistcoat with her tears.

"I know, Ma'am. I know." His strong arms enveloped her miniature form, attempting to abate her sobs, and he surrendered to the realisation that had consumed him since he arrived in the Palace after the ghastly business.

He would never be able to leave her again. And truly, he had never wanted to.


End file.
